Trip McNeely Syndrome Last night I saw God on the dancefloor When I opened up my eyes he was gone But I swear for a minute he was there Guess there's no need to go dancing anymore Well the friends and family of the deceased Are waiting for the party to begin You can leave a light on on Old Route One But I don't think I'll be coming home again These days and times and minds make me paranoid I was thinking 'bout the old town when I was nine But the office buildings conquered two-hand touch football Twelve of a kind just twelve future corpses standing in line It's a drag you're a rookie once and old forever Stuck for thirty years in places I've already been You can get most anywhere on Old Route One But I don't think I'll be coming home again Well the sea level has been Rising up for several years now We'll be trading in our Hondas for Venetian gondolas We'll go swimming in the parking lots our fathers plowed We're gonna have to grow gills and live with the rich folks in the hills We're to blame for doing ourselves in When the floods claim Old Route One I don't think I'll be coming home again With all the wayward people packing up and moving west Must be getting sort of sparse and bare over there I can see you when my eyes are closed (when my eyes are closed) When they're open I just see the crater where the phoenix rose I can talk about it, I can talk to myself Somedays I just stare at the sky and grin It's true I've been dwelling on Old Route One But I don't think I'll be coming home again